LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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AUTIIOJI 01-' "Tin; CUITRCM ANi> THKCIIVIL I.AW," "MICHIGAN 

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DETROIT: 

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Copyright 1888, Bij Charlf.^ P>. Honu'll. 



ILLUSTRATIONS BY J. B. TI[O.MAS 



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\i> corvtcnto, |j ;>fvafl^ ^e more tfvan conteitt. 

DiSTROiT, May 1, 1888. 



TABLE 0F eSMTEMTS. 



>:ext DooK, (Illustrated) 5 

A Voice from out the Skies — H 

In the Attic T 

Love Unber the Stars !) 

The Sailor's Cheer, (Illustrated) .12 

The Two Ships Vi 

The Soul of Liberty 13 

Just ix Time 14 

Memory's Tomes l") 

The Darkness Within Itl 

Detroit Kiveu 1^ 

Before the AVixrrE House Por- 
tals 20 

The Old Gray Kock. (Illus- 
trated) "-^1 

Fremont 22 

War Here— Peace Yonder 22 

The North Star Si ate 2o 

A June Carol 2") 

Look to God 2(i 

In the Corn Fif>ld 27 

JosiE 2!" 

Old Friends oO 

The Burning of Cihoago .Jl 

In Memokiam,— Abraham Lincoln; 
David Preston; James B. Atctiin- 
son: JolHi Motte Arnold; John 
Willyoung ; Lyman Cochrane ; 
Sadie Campbell; George A. Ross: 

Maurice Howell Hall 32-41 

The Pillow ok Promises 42 

MiRRI KELLK 43 

The Heart ok the I'eople 44 



The Voices of the Waters 45 

Gone Before 47 

Sunrise on the Prairies 49 

The Big Prairies 51 

Miss Dakota to Uncle Sam 52 

Love's Immortality ."3 

Over the Way 55 

How Long ? ofi 

Tjie Poet's Song 57 

Immortality — 58 

Sleep and Rest 59 

Our HeritaCtE (il 

Treasures in Heaven lil 

The Future. . (13 

Under the Stars <i3 

City and Country ti5 

The Fire on the Hearth . . .(ifi 

Forty Acres forSarah GS 

In the Country 70 

The Christmas Holidays 72 

Life 72 

Here and There 74 

The Bliz/.ard 74 

Lincoln, the Martyr 7<i 

The Great Word 77 

Merry Christmas 7S 

Winter's (Doming 79 

John Chinaman on the Wing....hO 
March up the Hill ok Triumph .S4 

The Judge Supreme S5 

Press On S7 

KOTES I5Y THE AUTHOR S9— 9>^ 










VTANoiNG-iN'MLCNCi:- |\EXT-DD°F\ . 
yrEN!N(i-TO-EAR^THLY. VOICE^' 
JHO^ HA^T- OFTEN' HL^R.D. BEFORE'? 



Next Door.' 



How far is thy habitation 

From that thou hast left behind? 
How far hast thy spirit journeyed, 

On the wings of the swiftest wind? 
How long is the distance over 

From here to the other side? 
How far is it to the haven 

Across the surging tide? 

Art thou, in immortal vesture, 

Standing in silence "next door," 
Listening to earthly voices 

Thou hast often heard before? 
What is the mystic partition 

Betwixt the dwellings of earth 
And the glorious "many mansions," 

In the land of celestial birth? 



No answer comes from the silence ; 

No voice from out the skies 
Unto my many questions, 

In any tone repHes. 
We know not whether Heaven 

Is near us or is far ; 
" Next door " to earth's habitations, 

Or beyond the farthest star. 



'A Voice From Out the Skies." 



Unseen is my habitation 

Among the dwellings of men ; 
The knowledge revealed here to me 

Is beyond all mortal ken. 
Not far is the distance over, 

Nor wide the Stygian flood. 
And thin is the veil that hides thee 

From the light of God. 

No tongue can describe the vesture 
Of those who in glory stand, 

Ineffable is the beauty 

Of the raiment in this land. 



IN THE ATTIC. 

Ah ! the honors of earth how empty ; 

The lights of earth how dim, 
When likened unto the glory 

And brightness of Him ! 

This world to thee seems silent, 

But were unsealed thine ears. 
Thou would'st listen to myriad voices 

In tune with the singing spheres. 
O ! soon the time is coming, 

Long looked-for, radiant dawn, 
When the veils will all be riven, 

Earth's night be gone. 



In The Attic' 



Like the wind that is dying away, 

To me is the low, faint roar 
In the mart of trade, where the " madding crowd " 

Through the street like a river doth pour. 

But no waves from that flood-tide come 

To my realm in this eyrie seat ; 
They may angrily rise and wildly surge, 

But against it in vain they beat. 



» IN THE ATTIC. 

From here Thought roams away 

On the Hghtning wings of the mind, 

While the Frame, in this sweet sohtude, 
Quiescent stays behind. 

Thought may travel over the road 
To the earliest dawn of light. 

May linger in Eden's pristine bowers, 
By the presence of Him made bright. 

May down the centuries come. 

While a panorama swings 
Before the mind, till the mystic past 

Is a gallery of wondrous things. 

May look on the tide of war, 

That rolled in tumultuous flood 

In the olden times adown the earth, 
Leaving a trail of blood. 

May gaze on the rule of right 

In many and many a life. 
Where peace and joy and truth and love 

Choked out the seeds of strife. 

May come to the present time 
Of marvels manifold. 



IN THE ATTIC. 

When man transmutes the grossest forms 
Into the finest gold. 

And sweeping by, may speed 

Through the future's broad domain, 

And travel on the King's highway, 
Till Paradise we gain. 

And yet, there is something more 
Than dreams and roving thought ; 

There is work on every hand to do, 
And battles to be fought. 

So I must get me down 

From this my eyrie seat, 
And breast the throbbing waves of life, 

However hard they beat. 

Yet a heavenly Pilot guides 

Our barques through the stormiest sea. 
And a Royal Captain leads His host 

To glorious victory. 



Love Under The Stars. 



Beneath the soft light of the stars, 
The myriad host, including Mars, 



iO LOVE UNDER THE STARS 

Frederick and Minnie Margaret walked, 

And of love they thought and of love they talked 

His eyes looked fondly in her own, 
Her eyes with tender love-light shone ; 
No fairer pair was ever seen 
Beneath the starlight's silvery sheen. 

They reached the maiden's father's gate, 
And stillness reigned, the hour was late ; 
They lingered, as do lovers oft. 
And their words were sentimental — soft. 

He said, " The stars their vigils keep, 
While men in their indifference sleep, 
Yet love is lasting as the stars — " 
As he said this the meadow bars 

Rattled and shook, and o'er them came, 
As fierce as the beasts no man can tame. 
The watch-dog Boze. He from kennel broke, 
And he fell on Fred with lightning stroke. 

Fred waited not to say good-night, 
But safely sought in sudden flight ; 
Down the highway fast and far 
He fled his way like a flying car ! 



LOVE UNDER THE STARS. 11 

Like the red Comanche he screamed and yelled, 
The dog meanwhile a straight course held ; 
For once, as on his way he sped, 
Proud man was found a " leetle ahead." 

Fred's father, and all the family, too, 
Had heard afar the '' hullabaloo,'- 
And rushed to the rescue of the son. 
Armed with weapons every one. 

They met the runners down the road. 
And as they by them swiftly strode, 
They hit the fiercely yelling cur. 
Till the air was full of his shaggy fur. 

Fred rushed pell mell to his mother's arms. 
Her presence then had greater charms 
Than fairy Minnie by her father's gate, 
Under the stars at an hour so late. 

Old Boze meanwhile had met his fate, — 
Too weak to answer the call of mate ; 
His watching, toil and waiting done. 
His race beneath the stars was run. 



12 THE sailor's cheer. 

The Sailor's Cheer. 



'' There is ever an angel up in the sky- 
Looking down upon poor Jack." 

— Old Sailor Song. 

There is never a night so dark, 

There is never a storm so wild, 
But through the chinks of the blackest sky,, 

Eyes merciful and mild — 
Eyes full of tenderness. 

And beaming with pure love — 
Look down in pity on poor Jack 

From the angel-land above. 

So Jack's heart never fails, 

Though the good ship rocks and reels. 
And his eye of courage never quails, — 

He full assurance feels 
That, hovering o'er his life, 

Are angels of swiftest wing. 
Who in the hours of darkest fate 

Hope's full assurance bring. 



The Two Ships. 



Once he sailed in the dark ship Doubt, 
Storms arose on every side; 




THqE-IVNtV£F^-A-NI&HT-i°-DA[^^ 
AlNO-NLVEP\-A-')T0F\M-5°-WlL°. 



THE SOUL OF LIBERTY. 13 

The rocks of woe lay black below, — 
Perilous was the tide. 

Now he sails in the good ship Faith 

Hopefully towards the shining shore ; 

Its headlands' bright appear in sight, 
And open is Heaven's door. 



The Soul of Liberty. 

(1864.) 



There is a spirit stirring in the land, 

That on the nation's palpitating heart 
Takes firmest hold, and thence will not depart 

'Till, from Atlantic's to Pacific's strand, 
It permeates the soil, and air, the breast 

Of every freeman, and of all oypressed. 
It is a spirit that, though centuries gone. 

Though the world's long past, earliest morning's 
dawn. 
Has moved to noblest deeds the noblest men. 

And broken myriads of chains of slavery. 
In every age, on mountain, vale and glen. 

It's voice has shouted, ^^ Let all men he free! ^^ 
The spirit that thus bids oqpression flee 

Is the unconquored Soul of Liberty. 



14 JUST IN TIME. 

Just in Time.' 



Calmly on icy shore, 

Ghastly and pale, 
Where now and evermore 

Sweeps by the gale ; 
Hope dying, they await, 
Heroes all, cruel fate. 

No more the icebergs swim 

Through Artie seas ; 
Prayer doth ascend to Him 

Whose sympathies 
Sweep through the universe. 
Giving balm for the curse. 

Earth's light going out, 

Hope dies at last. 
Hark! whence that rescuing shout? 

Men look aghast ! 
Can it be help is come, 
Just on the brink of doom? 

Yes, in time ; embers burn 
In shivering frames. 



memory's tomes. 15 

To their homes may return 

Some hero-names. 
Evermore in life look up : 
" While there is life there's hope." 



Memory's Tomes. 



I sat on the bank of a rushing stream, 

Through a glad valley it sped, 
I looked on the past, as one in a dream 

Looks on the face of the dead. 

'Twas the valley where once my childhood played 

Years and years gone by ; 
I had "lang syne" from those old haunts strayed, 

I thought time had severed each tie 

That held me unto the scenes of old ; 

And yet in my wanderings 
I sat where Memory unto me told 

A thousand forgotten things. 

I opened a volume of the times, 

Full of music and song ; 
Of rollicking, dulcet, rhythmic rhymes. 

And its gilt leaves roamed among. 



16 THE DARKNESS WITHIN. 

But Memory's tomes before my eyes 
Shut out this charming book, 

And whichever way, in my surprise, 
My roving eyes would look 

Memory's volumes ojien wide, 
And, as writ with pen of gold, 

There rose like the ocean's swelling tide 
The myriad scenes of old. 

0, may we keep lifs's record clear, 
That when in the world above. 

The books are opened we need not fear, 
But rest in the Father's love. 



The Darkness Within.* 



They sailed, the Egyptian seamen, 

And those from Grecian isles. 
And mariners, bold Romans 

Sailed 'neath the glad sun's smiles. 
O'er Mediterranean's bosom. 

Up- closely to her shore; 
From eastward to the westward 

They did the sea explore. 



THE DARKNESS WITHIN. 17 

But when they reached Gibraltar, 

These sailors, bronzed and bold, 
Furled sails and cast their anchors, 

(So runs the story old). 
To them the bounding billows 

Of the rolling western sea 
Were filled with death and danger, 

And awful mystery. 

They thought the sea a monster. 

With giant hands to slay 
The roving, luckless voyagers 

Sailing that dangerous way. 
That dancing, sparkling sunbeams 

Did not upon it fall ; 
'Twas wrapped in midnight darkness, 

As in a funeral pall. 

But onward rolled time's chariot. 

And other seamen brave. 
Sailed o'er the dark old ocean, 

On through her yielding wave. 
And while fierce storms swept o'er her. 

The sunshine also came. 
And shone upon her bosom 

A bright and welcome flame. 



DETROIT RIVER. 

And now the broad Atlantic 

Bears navies on her tide, 
And ships from every nation 

In triumph o'er her ride. 
The glorious sun in heaven 

Hides not his luminous face 
From this old '' sea of darkness," 

But visits her in his race. 

There was a depth of darkness 

Among the mariners old, 
And (now they're gone) all safely 

The story may be told. 
The dense and inky darkness 

Was ignorance and sin; 
Their vision was inverted ; 

The darkness was within. 



Detroit River.' 



steadily onward, onward 
Its royal tide doth flow, 

Beneath the midnight darkness, 
Or mid-day's brightest glow ; 



DETROIT RIVER. ' 19 

It's pure refreshing waters 

Roll down from the inland seas, 

And the snow white wings of commerce 
Float o'er it in the breeze. 

Its broad abounding waters 

Are mighty at night as day ; 
Through all the changing seasons 

They do not shrink away. 
And when the freshet's torrents 

Into the current pour, 
This King among the rivers 

Goes onward as before. 

0, calm, majestic River! 

O, quiet, yet mighty flood ! 
Thou speak'st in musical whispers, 

Like the still, small voice of God. 
Symbol, thou art, 0, River, 

Of the stream beyond the strife. 
By the throne forever flowing. 

The pure, glad River of Life. 



20 BEFORE THE WHITE-HOUSE PORTALS. 

"Before the White-House Portals." 



Before the White-House Portals, 

When war was in the land, 
When southern cohorts threatened 

And blood was on every hand, 
I stood with gathered thousands — 

Over us was a spell. 
As we heard great-hearted Lincoln 

The story of Freedom tell. 

Before the White-House Portals, 

When peace, white-winged, had come, 
I stood 'mid a throng there gathered. 

But the eloquent lips were dumb ; 
The white walls and the pillars 

Were wrapped in symbols of woe, 
While a weeping nation staggered 

Under the terrible blow. 

I have thought mayhaps in Heaven 

Is a White-House stately, grand, 
Among the many mansions — 

That within its portals stand 
The great and true apostles 

Of liberty in the past. 
Who talk of that grandest Freedom 

Which they have won at last. 



1 



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_ '^^^^\ ' Df EPp^- D^WN -THAN THE- Cof\AL- 
^. •- BENEAi:H-tH£-TFlEA^HER°Uy WAVE,' 
[t- K\\f_\ Hl^H-0'Ef\-THE0CEAN • 
F\EADYT°-r-\E^^UE, <)AVE, 



THE OLD GRAY ROCK. 21 

The Old Gray Rock/ 



It goes deeper down than the coral, 
Beneath the treacherous wave ; 

It rises high o'er the ocean, 
Ready to rescue — save. 

The pelting, pitiless storm winds 
That sweep, at the midnight, by, 

Are scattered, shattered, defeated. 

When they meet this rock, and die. 

It does not sway or tremble 

Before the wildest swell, 
But is strong, and free, and mighty 

As tongue or pen can tell. 

It has stood while men and empires 
Went down in blood and tears ; 

It has stood through all the ages, 
It is gray with its myriad years. 

It does not frown upon you. 

Nor sway a tyrant's rod. 
But beams with love and mercy — 

It is the Truth of God. 

2 



22 WAR HERE PEACE YONDER. 

Fremont.' 



Triumphant stands he in the majesty 
Of risen truth and vindicated right, 
With sword unsheathed, ready to bravely fight 

Those who would fain bring down fair Liberty, 
The nation's guardian goddess, from on high 
Into dishonor's turbid pool to die. 

'Tis meet Fremont, who, fearless, trod the path, 

('Mid savage foes, and braving the storm king's 
wrath ) , 
Untrod before, o'er mountains of the West, 
Till he upon Pacific's shore found rest. 

Should now do battle on the mountain height. 
In Union's name and Freedom's, till the goal 
Of the nation's hopes is reached, and every soul 

A sacred alter is for freedom's holy light. 



War Here— Peace Yonder. 



I thought the warfare over. 

That ceased had beat of drum. 

That peace, as dove from heaven. 
To the weary world had come. 

That the bitter, ceasless conflicts 
'Twixt brethern of one race, 



THE NORTH STAR STATE. 23 

Had like some dark dream vanished, 
And left no scar or trace. 

But, as the tides of ocean 

Now shrink, and die away, 
Then roll again to shoreward 

When evening shadows play ; 
So now on earth the battle 

Is raging fierce and high — 
Above all jarring tumults 

Is heard the warrior's cry. 

And yet if true souls listen 

To a still, small voice within, 
There will be heard a message 

Above earth's battle-din : 
" Be brave in life's hard battle, 

And win a sure release, 
For at the goal up yonder 

You'll find eternal peace." 



The North Star State. 



Prairies stretching westward 
Toward the setting sun ; 



24 THE NORTH STAR STATE. 

Rivers northward, southward, 
Every way they run. 

Vast and mighty forests 

The woodsman's axe await, 

A commonwealth of power 
Is the North Star State. 

Scenery of grandeur 

And simplicity, 
In her wide-spread borders 

Everywhere you see ; 
ower-gems on the prairies, 

Singing streams i' the wood. 
Beautify the landscape 

And cheer the solitude. 

Cities, towns, and hamlets 

Rise like magic here and there 
And the horse of iron 

Rides forth triumphant there ; 
Enterprise looks upward, 

With high hope elate, 
A commonwealth of power 

Is the North Star state. 



A JUNE CAROL. 25 

A June Carol. 



Bobolinks sing of June 

In the red clover, 
Robins are warbling June 

Over and over. 
Larks, they are chirping June 

Out in the meadow, 
Swallows — twitter June 

In the eave's shadow. 

Early flowers tell of June 

While they are lying. 
Breathing their last perfume, 

As they are dying. 
The long days hint of June 

And the old Sun, shining, 
Tells of June at the noon 

And at day's declining. 

"June!" shouts the romping boy, 

"June?" carols the maiden, 
"June," drone the toiling ones 

With their burdens laden, 
" June," whisper in my ear 

The South winds blowing, 
" June," gurgle waters clear 

Towards the ocean flowing. 



26 LOOK TO GOD. 

Look to God. 



Is thy lone heart heavy, 

'Neath its weight of woe? 
Dost thy soul grow weary 

Of this life below? 
Art thou sadly sighing 

O'er thy earthly lot? 
Look to God for guidance ; 

He forsaketh not. 

Does the black-browed Tempest, 

At the midnight dark, 
With a stroke of fury, 

Smite thy frail life-barque? 
Look to conquering Jesus, 

Who, on Galilee, 
Spake — and peace and safety 

Reigned upon the sea. 

Whatsoe'er thy trouble, 

Whatsoe'er thy woe ; 
On life's field of warfare 

Where'er thou dost go. 
Marching, working, waiting, 

On thy pilgrim road, 



IN THE CORN FIELD. 27 

With faith's full assurance, 
Look unto thy God ! 



In the Corn Field. 



They go in the April morning, 

Father and son, afield. 
And ploughing the green-sward under. 

Look forth to the harvest's yield. 
The father is brown and sober. 

The son is blithe and gay. 
And so the hours pass swiftly 

Of the glad and hopeful day. 

They go again in May time 

Each armed with a brand-new hoe, 
And plant the tiny kernels 

Of corn in the ground below ; 
The father tells of plantings 

In the primitive, olden time. 
The son, half listening, dreameth 

Of odors of rose and thyme. 

Anon corn-blades are springing 

From out the earth's dark mould ; 



28 IN THE CORN FIELD. 

Unto the air and sunshine 

The tender leaves unfold. 
Quickly the blades grow stronger 

Under the dew and sun, 
And the hue grows deeper, clearer. 

Of the green stalks, every one. 

There's a rustle of leaves in the corn field 

As the August breeze sweeps by ; 
'Mid the stalks are the children playing, 

And look toward the bending sky — . 
They ask whence come these voices 

Of the wind in its mild, sweet mood, 
And wonder if 'tis from Heaven, 

If it be the whisper of God. 

The field becomes a forest 

Of stalks, and tassels, and grain, 
When skies are grown more sober. 

And falls September rain ; 
Then father and son with sickles 

Gather the ripened ears. 
Symbols of life's ripe harvest 

For the granery of the years. 



josiE. 29 

JOSIE. 



I care little whether sunshine 

Falleth, or clouds hover o'er, 
Whether the hoarse, wild tempest 

Is al^road with flash and roar. 
Or whether at peace is nature, 

And banished dark-faced fear, 
Only so thou, my darling. 

So thou art near. 

I hear the ravens croaking, 

Clad in the garb of men. 
Discordant and sad their music, 

Very perplexing, but then, 
I little heed their clammor, 

Or their forbodings drear. 
If at home by the fireside. 

Thy voice I hear. 

Thy smiles are the brightest sunshine. 

And gladden the weary heart. 
Thy voice is the sweetest music 

The world to me can impart. 
Thy face more fair than nature. 

Freed from shadows and strife. 
More than sunshine, and music, and beauty. 

Art thou, my wife. 



30 OLD FRIENDS. 

Old Friends. 



Their heart-strings closely together 

Are knit as with hooks of steel ; 
Whatever the wind or weather, 

Each doth for the other feel 
A S3^mpathy deep, an abiding love, 
Born of a principle from Above. 

One may be on the ocean. 

Leagues and leagues from land, 
Where waves in wild commotion 

Smite with tyrant hand ; 
But he gladly sees with eye of faith. 
His friend far away from the tempest's breath. 

The other in summer bowers 

Surrounded by wealth untold, 
'Mid odors of rarest flowers. 

Clouds dressed in crimson and gold. 
The signals say, "There's a storm at sea!" 
And he thinks, "Can my friend from its danger flee?" 

Their hands with age may tremble, 

Their eyes grow dim and faint ; 
They do not betray or dissemble. 

In their love there is no taint ; 



THE BURNING OF CHICAGO. 31 

It has stood the test of smiles and tears, 
And is as eternal as the years. 



The Burning of Chicago, 

OCTOBER 7, 1871. 



No need to turn to history's pages, 

To burning Moscow, Jerusalem, Rome ; 

We find Chicago's burning ruins 

And shattered grandeur here at home. 

No need to seek the field of battle 

For scenes of death, for piles of slain ; 

Before the sword of flame these perished, 
O, may they not have died in vain ! 

We need not grope in shadowy chambers, 
'Mid storied temples of the past. 

To find humanity's great heart throbbing- 
The world in wonder stands aghast 

To see the horn of plenty emptied 

Into the scenes so desolate ; 
To see broad Charity, child of heaven, 

Changing to triumph adverse fate. 



32 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 

IN ME^MORI^M. 

Abraham Lincoln. 

APRIL, 1865. 



We bow the knee in prayer to-day, 
Our hearts are filled with sorrow ; 

Upon each day we trust and pray 
Relief may come to-morrow. 

But, when the morrow comes, alas ! 

The deepening shadow lingers ; 
Upon the air is writ " despair " 

By subtle, unseen fingers. 

I look up to the Capitol's dome. 
And Liberty's face is saddened, 

Where yesterday the smiles did play. 
As " victory " all hearts gladdened. 

And thus me thinks the Goddes speaks 
" Stand by the stricken nation. 

Which sorely needs your noblest deeds, 
The patriot's best oblation, 

" The bravest and the best must go 
Beyond earth's open portal. 

But the legacy of liberty 

They leave becomes immortal." 



DAVID PRESTON. 33 

David Preston. 



'' What ! David Preston dead, 

His royal spirit fled? 

I cannot make it seem 

Aught but a passing dream." 

So said a friend I met upon the street, 

As the sad news swept by, on flying feet. 

That Sabbath morn there came, 
Sunshine in golden flame, 
That lighted earth and sky, 
So grandly, gloriously. 

That it was marveled, that death's angel grim 
Should, on such bright, glad morn, have smit- 
ten him. 

Upon that Sabl:)ath tide, 

There sounded far and wide 

Bell notes upon the air. 

Inviting men to prayer 

And unto praise, and preaching of the Word, 

Which in his life so oft his soul had stirred. 

How hard to bear his loss. 
How hard to bear the cross 



34 DAVID PRESTON. 

Of bitter suffering, 

His death to all doth bring, 

Who knew and greeted him, and pressed his 

hand, 
While walking Zionward, through desert land. 



Lo ! on the farther shore, 

Angels are singing, 

Cherubim, Seraphim, 

Voices are ringing ! 

Hark ! hear the saints in light, 

Clad in their vestures white, 

Join in seraphic strains. 

Rolling o'er Heaven's plains. 

And this, their glad refrain : 

" Earth's loss, but Heaven's gain I 

Well done, thy work of love ; 

No need thy faith to prove, 

To glory thou art come. 

Welcome home I Welcome home ! " 

Then saith his Master, Lord : 
" Well done, thou faithful one 1 



JAMES B. ATCHINSON. 35 



Receive thy rich reward, 

The purchase of my Son!" 



And thus methinks our loved friend entered in 
That glorious rest unmarred by woe or sin. 
For an abundant entrance e'er is given, 
To such as he, into the highest Heaven. 



James B. Atchinson. 



His song on earth has died upon his lips, 
His earthly sun gone out in death's eclipse. 
And mourning ones have wept beside his bier, 
And each who loved him drops the silent tear. 

Yet, could we list the sweet, ecstatic strains, 
That roll in triumph o'er the heavenly plains. 
We would rejoice to hear him sing the song 
Of Moses and the Lamb with sainted throng. 

And were our visions given a heavenly sweep. 
And could we view the land where none o'er weep, 
We would not say his sun had set in night, 
But risen where the Lamb of God gives light. 



36 JOHN MOTTE ARNOLD. 

He wrought for God with patience and with might, 
Encased in armor, went forth to the fight 
Of love and faith. He's laid his armor down, 
And his reward the pure, unfading crown. 



John Motte Arnold. 



How near may man be unto lasting peace. 
And near life's battle unto death's release. 
When heaven begins and toils and troubles cease. 

The pilgrim in his tabernacled clay, 
Walking a-wear}^ in the King's highway, 
Anon doth enter through the gates of day. 

This laborer in the vineyard of the Lord, 
Above earth's tumults, heard the Master's word 
Of " Come up higher ! " — how his soul was stirred ! 

And suddenly his spirit took its flight. 
Above the regions of earth's sin and blight. 
Unto the land of love, and life, and light. 

And yet, the beauty of his life is ours ; 

His good deeds blossom as perennial flowers. 

And memories of him cheer in darkened hours. 



JOHN WILLYOUNG. 37 

John Willyoung. 



*' It May he at the Midnight.^ ^ 



'Twas midnight tide — the hum of trade 

Had ceased when evening shades grew deep ; 
Men, one by one, had left the marts 

And sought the realm of dreams and sleep, 
But lights still burned within a home, 

Where dwelt hearts charged with mutual love, 
And on a dying couch lay one 

Who heard " Come home," from Heaven above. 

This one had been a soldier brave. 

Had borne Emmanuel's banner high. 
Been true to all of duty's calls. 

And sought a noble destiny. 
But strength of frame began to wane. 

And weaker grew his manly voice ; 
Yet still he held the standard high 

Of Him who was his hope and choice. 

But in this world an end must come, 

However high the purpose be. 
O, swiftly flows life's onward tide 

Into the everlasting sea ! 
3 



88 LYMAN COCHRANE. 

And to the hiisl)and, father came 

The hour when farewell must be said ; 

Then looked he to the Strong for strength 
That he might home be safely led. 

He stood at starting on a hight 

'Twixt week-days and the Sabbath rest, 
And through the valley's shadow walked 

With Him who hath that journey blest. 
'Twas midnight to the Aveary world. 

In many a heart 'twas sorrow's night, 
But on our brother's vision broke 

The glories of Heaven's morning light ! 



Lyman Cochrane, 



Inexorable the high decrees of Heaven, 

That set the narrow bounds of human life ; 
The warrior falls amid the battle's strife ; 

The men of commerce from the mart are driven. 

The toiler quits the weary task he plies ; 

The student's midnight lamp no longer burns. 
The path of age towards the dark river turns. 

And even merry childhood fades and dies. 



SADIE CAMPBELL. 39 

And now the learned, kind, noble, generous one, 
Who judged in merey only yesterday — 
His form is borne to mix with common clay. 

Away from courts, from life, from air and sun. 
And yet in courts, in hearts, and homes remain 
Fond memories in which he lives again. 



Sadie Campbell. 



A year ago her features 

Beamed brightly upon all, 
At morn, at noon and evening 

Was heard her childish call 
To "Papa," "Mamma," "Willie," 

And the baby in their home, 
But now you may barken all in vain. 

For afar her footstejjs roam. 

When springtime flowers were budding, 

Her eyes with gladness beamed. 
And when they bloomed so sweetly 

Companion fit she seemed 
For the royalist household blossoms 

In any family tree. 
And you might trace in her radiant face 

The sweetest felicitv. 



40 GEORGE A. ROSS. 

When Autumn, brown and sober 

Saddened the earth and sky, 
She faded with the fading flowers, 

And then with moan and sigh 
And bitter tears and prayers to God, 

They laid her body down 
To rest, yet know that up in Heaven 

She wears a victor's crown. 



George A. Ross. 



When war's dread tocsin sounded through the land, 
And there was need of men with courage high, 
Ready to bravely do, if need be, die, 
Our brother went forth with a patriot band ; 
And, moved by highest motives for the right, 
He quailed not in the thickest of the fight. 
He bared his breast to shafts of death that fast 
Flew as leaves fly upon the Autumn blast. 
So in the battle for his Christ and Lord, 
He held the holy Word, the Spirit's sword. 
And calmly, humbly, bravely pressed his way 
Through midnight gloom or mid-day sun's bright ray 
The victor's wreath, and palm, and crown of life 
Are his, where nevermore come sin and strife. 



MAURICE HOWELL HALL. 41 

Maurice Howell Hall. 



When winter winds were high, 

And dark the lowering sky, 

And snow swept madly past 

Upon the swift, fierce blast — 
There came from Heaven our blessed baby boy, 
The father's, mother's, brother's, sister's joy! 

Sweet smiles played on his face, 

So full of winsome grace ; 

And soon his prattling voice 

Made all our hearts rejoice ; 
His life with ours did softly intertwine, 
Like tendril round the branches of the vine. 

The winter went, and spring 

Gave earth her offering ; 

Then summer, like a queen. 

Made glorious all the scene ; 
And still the baby crowed and smiled, and we 
Looked toward the future with felicity. 



The dense, deep shadows fall. 
Dark as a funeral pall ; 
We softly, gently tread — 



42 THE PILLOW OF PROMISE. 

Our baby hoy is dead ; 
When holy hush of Sabbath eventide 
AVas in our home, the darling baby died. 

O, God of Heaven, to Thee 
For help and strength we flee ! 
O, keep us by Thy side 
'Till we shall cross the tide. 
And in the Beulah land of love and joy. 
With other loved ones, meet our angel boy 



The Pillow of Promises/ 



Darkness covered the weary earth, 

And shadows filled my soul ; 
Over my heart did wave upon wave 
Of sorrow roll. 

In vain I beckoned to balmy Sleep 

To lull my frame to rest ; 
Instead came trooping doubts and fears, 
To haunt my breast.' 

But lo ! on midnight darkness ])roke 

A strange, yet welcome light, 
The Word illumined all my ways, — 
Made songs in the night. 



MARRTBELLE. 

One by one His promises came 

Unto my memory, 
Softly as down from Seraph's wing, 
And set me free. 

My pillow was smoothed by angel hands, 

Each feather a promise became. 

Inspiring rest, and strength, and hope, 

In His matchless name. 

Upon this pillow of promises rare 

I felt divinely blessed, 
And body, spirit, mind and soul. 
Found perfect rest. 



MiRRIBELLE. 



There are music's charms so sweet 
In the tripping of her feet, 
As she passes o'er the lawn 
When the glare of day is gone. 
And when twilight's curtains fall, 
Casting shadows over all. 



•-G 



There is music in her voice. 
And stern Nature doth rejoice. 
As, through parlor, hall and grove. 



44 THE HEART OF THE PEOPLE. 

Rings her song of home and love, 
While its echoes in the wood 
Awaken the deepest solitude. 

In her laughter music finds 
Webs to deftly catch our minds ; 
List to the rippling peals that pass 
From ruby lips of this fair lass ! 
We as captives fast are bound, 
While this music-queen is crowned. 

Is there music in her soul? 
Do the heavenly echoes roll 
Through her spirit's chambers bright? 
May some magic bring to light 
The secret of the wondrous spell, 
Cast over all bv Mirribelle. 



The Heart of the People. 



There's a beating heart, with a power divine, 
Which no single soul can feel; 

It throbs and sways the widespread land 
For the nation's truest weal. 



THE VOICES OF THE WATERS. 45 

At times it seems to die away ; 

Then braggarts boast their power, 
And timorous souls lose heart and hope, 

While evil rules the hour. 

But anon truth's bugle notes are heard, 

And the people's heart awakes ; 
Then a wave of righteousness divine 

Upon the parched land breaks. 

Then throbs the people's heart anew 

With beatings for the right. 
And trembling men wax strong and brave 

In the fore-front of the fight. 

O, may this heart be ever true, 

And froe, and strong, and brave ! 
Then dark-browed Wrong shall never lift 

His head above the wave. 



The Voices of the Waters. 



Soothing the fountain's falling spray. 
Cooling in summer's sultry day 

In the parks and squares of the city, 



46 THE VOICES OF THE WATERS. 

But at night, to the wanderers who roam 
The crowded streets, afar from home. 
It has a voice of pity. 

Sweet is the voice of the summer rain, 
Striking athwart my window pane 

At night, noon, eve or morning. 
But sad its voice when swept by the gale, 
Crying out its desolate wail 

In fearful tones of warning 1 

The brooklet's song is one of cheer, 
As on it flows, from year to year 

Merrily to the river. 
The river sings a bolder song. 
Protesting against each crying wrong. 

Loyal to the right forever. 

The ocean's voice is bolder still. 
As if beneath her a mighty will 

Sought through the sea expression. 
At times Old Ocean's voice is low; 
Again she rises and strikes a l)low, — 

A giant in oppression ! 

The voices of our inland seas 
Are full of riddles and mysteries — 
Can we not catch their meaning? 



GONE BEFORE. 47 

0, let US harken within the soul 
To the shining billows as they roll, — 
Heaven's light upon them beaming ! 

0, what the voice of that mighty sea 
'Twixt earth and the shores of Eternity, 

Is this by tempests riven? 
Or will our frail barques on it ride, 
Until it's all-embracing tide 

Shall bear us home to Heaven? 



Gone Before. 



They sweep in panoramic view 

Before my vision now ; 
The light of immortality 

Glows brightly on each brow. 
The 'bridge that runs between the worlds 

Seems but a narrow way, 
Leading from here where clouds arise 

To where there's endless day. 

I see the soldier boy who went 

From out our father's home, 
And took his stand where brave men stood, 

And bade the danger come. 



48 GONE BEFORE. 

But 80011 he answered to the call 
The dark commander gave, 

Who conquors all the human race, 
However strong or brave. 

I see the j)laymate dear who died 

In childhood's morning hour. 
His petty hand could not withstand 

The great destroyer's power. 
But yet he did not shrink or weep. 

But with a calm good bye, 
The playmate of my budding life 

Journeyed beyond the sky. 

I see the loved ones from our home 

Sweep in their shining way, 
Their spirits freed from earthly loads- 

Their home the realms of day. 
But lo ! the mist comes o'er my eyes, 

I cannot see for tears. 
In thinking of the old-time group 

In the home of vanished years. 

I turn my gaze to earth and toil — 
To struggle and to strife ; 

All these are fitting souls of men 
To grasp the higher life. 



SUNRISE ON THE PRAIRIES. 49 

They fit us for the shining way, 

That we may wing our flight 
From darkness of the nether world 

To that of day and light. 



Sunrise on the Prairies/' 

The first gray streaks of the morning's dawn 

Break the gloom of the midnight sky, 
And the ghostly shadows with swiftest speed 

To their caverns fly. 
The cocks are crowing their loud acclaim, 
As they see the tokens of coming day, 
And the angel of darkness plumes his wings 
For his home ^aw ay. 

The streaks of gray to a lighter hue 

Are changing, as morning marches on ; 
And the prairies that stretch to the west away. 

Bid the night '' Begone ! " 
The multitudinous flowers, that drooped 

Their petals while darkness brooded o'er. 
Look up, as moved by buoyant hopes, 
And the light adore ! 



50 SUNRISE ON THE PRAIRIES. 

That glorious artist, the regal Sun, 

Hidden as vet, his brush has dipped 
Into his beautiM colors, and now 

Is fully equipped. 
To paint the east with glintings of gold. 

Intermingled with crimson dyes. 
Till more than a magical scene is viewed 
On the Orient skies. 

Supernal gardens hang over the world. 

As the sun comes forth iTom its hiding phice, 
Filling with glory ineffable 

The oceans of space ; 
Flowers of manifold shape and form 
Blossom in beauty, far and wide, 
On the prairies that seem as illimitable 
As the ocean's tide. 

There are gems on the prairies in gleaming lakes. 

Fringed and belted with waving trees ; 
Pioneer homes nestle on the shores, 

Resting in peace. 
The sun is climbing the walls of blue. 

No power can stay his march through the skies. 
And so it will be till time shall end, — 
Till the Great Sun dies ! 



THE BIG PRAIRIES. 51 

But a fairer, gladder scene than this 

Is that in the galleries of the soul, 
When the Sun of Righteousness doth rise. 

And our all control. 
And a dawn more glorious still awaits 

The tree who cross the Jordon flood, 
And shine, on the everlasting shore. 
In the light of God ! 



^HE Big Prairies/' 



Stretching away, 
They seem to end where the god of day 

Goes to rest, 

So sweetl}^ blessed, 

In the crimson west; 
Big as these prairies, may each man's heart 
Be, as in life he acts his part. 

0, the blinding snow ! 
That rides on the swiftest winds that blow. 

O, how white. 

When the stars shine bright, 

In the frosty night ! 
White as the snow on the prairies wide 
May truth in all men's hearts abide. 



MISS DAKOTA TO UNCLE SAM. 

The free, pure air 
Is around, about us everywhere. 
Blest boon to man. 
Prolongs life's span. 
Breathe it who can ! 
Free and pure as the air around 
May law and liberty ever abound. 



Miss Dakota to Uncle Sam. 



0, don't you hear my knock at the door? 
Many a knock you have heard before. 
States that are fruitful and states that are not. 
Have boldly come to this same spot, 
And knocked till was heard a mighty din. 
And cried, "Uncle Sam, just let me in! " 

States that have area barren and small, 
And mayhaps a mountain peak so tall ; 
States with swamps and lakes covered o'er 
Have rushed pell mell through this same door, 
I knock — to keep me out is a sin. 
Let me come in ! O, let me come in ! 

You say I am young and not of age ! 
Read, dear Uncle, history's page. 
Did not the few of our infant land 



love's immortality. 53 

Win victon^ from hoary oppressor's hand? 

Some only begin to live at death ; 

I breathed from birth a giant's breath. 

Don't be afraid or weak in the l)ack, 
Nor swayed by every party hack. 
You're old, my Uncle, but on your side 
Are national honor, glory and pride ; 
You're safe to open wide the door, ; 
And let my people through it pour. 

You say I'm away on the border line, 

But look when the summer sun doth shine. 

On the limitless fields of golden grain, 

That are food, and health, and life, and gain ! 

My people are millions — I can only begin 

To tell you all — pray let me in. 



Love's Immortality. 



There's beauty in the mountains 

That overlook the sea. 
And seem in forms majestic 

To rise eternally ; 
And yet when them I question 

Of that which is to be, 
0, awful is their silence ! 

They speak no word to me. 



4 



54 love's immortality., 

I've stood in awe, at midnight, 

Upon the hill of Mars, 
And gazed with look of rapture 

Upon the glittering stars ; 
I asked of them the question, 

Of that which is to come. 
When these frail bodies perish — 

The glorious stars were dumb. 

I asked the rolling rivers 

That rushed on toward the sea. 
If they could tell the secret 

Of immortality. 
They spoke a mystic language 

And voiced true melody. 
E'en they revealed no secret 

Of this great mystery. 

And yet, beloved Clemantha, 

I look upon thy face, 
It mantles with love's beauty ; 

Upon it I can trace 
The characters that tell me 

Of life forevermore. 
We'll meet again, Clemantha, 

Upon the thither shore ! 



OVER THE WAY. 55 

Over The Way. 



Over the way as twilight gathers 

A fair maid sitteth, in dreamy mood. 
" What are thy thoughts, my heart's enchantress?" 

No answer — sacrilege to intrude. 
Now her eyes begin to brighten, 

And her lips begin to play ; 
Low and sweet the words she utters 

Over the way. 

List ! and hear the golden sentence : — 

'' O, he is all the world to me ! " 
(I'm truly the star of her adoration) 

" O, Willie come back from over the sea ! " 
Alas ! the spell of my soul is broken, 

Just as of Heaven I catch one ray, 
Her words so soft, like daggers pierce me — 

Over the way. 

It little recks the distance over. 

Across the street or ocean wide. 
Or e'en across the world-wide spaces 

'Twixt us and the eternal tide — 
If but the eye of love look over. 

And heart of true love beat for aye — 
It then is but a step to journey 

Over the way. 



56 HOW LONG ? 

How Long? 



How long will the fireside circle 

Unharmed and unbroken remain, 
All free from every disaster, 

From weariness, trouble, and pain? 
How long ere the links will be parted 

In the marvelous, magical chain 
In the kingdom of home, and be scattered. 

Ne'er to be united again? 

How long, O, how long? 

How long ere those who swear friendship 

Will the last time swear and betray? 
They say they'll be faithful forever. 

While truly they're traitors to-day : 
HoAv long ere w^e find that their greetings 

Are cloaks for the hypocrite's heart ; 
That their words are as sunbeams at sunset 

Which soon into darkness depart? 

How long, O, how long? 

How long ere all our day dreams — 

Which reveal a better life. 
Above this grinding and plodding, 

Labor, vexation and strife, — 



THE poet's song. 57 

Will with our real lives mingle, 

Refreshing as Heaven's dew? 
How long ere they will transform us, 

Thus making our dreams come true? 

How long, O, how long? 



The Poet's Song. 



Whence the song which the poet sings, 
That rises as upon angel wings 
From the depths of subtle mystery, 
And sweetly echoes from sea to sea. 

Not in man's mind is born the song 

That sways the world and rights the wrong, 

Not in schools is learned the lore 

That blooms in song forevermore. 

It never found its place of birth 

In palace or castle of the earth, 

And the proudest ruler's fostering care 

Can ne'er make bloom this flower so fair. 

This song in the inner court is born 
Of a human heart — it mav be torn 



58 IMMORTALITY. 

By pangs of sorrow, by anguish riven, 
But if it be touched by fire from Heaven, 

The world is thrilled by a song divine, 
The earth's dark corners begin to shine ; 
Jubilant become the solitudes. 
While a spirit of joy o'er humanity broods ! 



Immortality. 



What do you see, Pilgrim, 
Upon your toilsome road, 

That points to immortality, 
To heaven and to God? 

What say the lofty mountains, 
That greet the wondering eye, 

Of those who, in the march of life, 
Wearied, lie down and die? 

What say the rushing rivers. 
That never cease to roll ; — 

What say they of the destiny 
Of the inner life — the soul? 

What voice comes from the azure, 
When studded o'er with stars, 



SLEEP AND REST. 59 

Of the awful mystery of life? 
Who breaks death's iron bars? 

" I see no sign," says Pilgrim, 

" Amid earth's gathering gloom, 
By day or night, on land or sea, 
That points beyond the tomb. 

" The foliage and the verdure 
Of spring or summer time. 
Following winter's seeming death. 
Hint of a summer clime ; 

" But a clearer, surer witness. 
In the Gospel full and free. 
Brings forth to light eternal life, 
And immortality." 



Sleep and Rest. 



How sweet the deep rej^ose 

Of childhood w^hen at rest. 
Sleeping in safety and content 
Upon the mother's breast. 

Then comes not near 
The ghost of fear ; 
Nor sigh, nor tear, 
Nor bodings drear. 



GO SLEEP AND REST. 

O, welcome is the night 

To toilers of the day ! 
For then a drowsy mystery 

Bears them from cares away. 

Ref. 
The weightiest burdens lift 

From sleep of innocence ; 
The peasant in his lowly cot 

Then ranks with proudest prince. 

Ref. 

Sweet is the soldier's rest 

After the weary march 
Upon the breast of mother earth, 

Above, the starry arch. 

Ref. 

But sweeter, gladder far 

Is that which doth remain, 

When toil, and march, and strife are done, 
And friend greets friend again. 

Ref. 

And, crowning all, the rest 

To pilgrims who have trod 
The thorny path of life, upon 

The bosom of their God. 

Ref. 



TREASURES IN HEAVEN. 61 

Our Heritage. 



God said, " Let there be light ! " 
Lo, on swift wings the night 

Fled from the earth away — 
Then sleeping nature woke 
As on the earth there broke 

The beams of the first day ; 
Then in God's own most glorious image, He 
Made man the heir of immortalitw 

What a rich heritage 
To youth or hoary age, 

To man strong in his prime ! 
O, let us treasure up 
This bright, celestial hope — 

The royalist star of time ! 
Then this rich heritage of the race will be 
A constant joy through all eternity. 



Treasures in Heaven, 



Earthly treasures — they may shine. 
Like the diamonds from the mine — 
They may purchase earthly fame, 
Carye on honor's scroll our name. 



62 TREASURES IN HEAVEN. 

Can they bring us richest store, 
When this life shall be no more? 
Can thay purchase mansions grand 
In the blissful Beulah land? 



No, ah no ! they fade away 
Like the beams of dying day. 
Melt like wax in furnace heat, 
Pass our view on flving feet ! 



Only heavenly treasures last 
When all time and sense are past — 
Only wealth in faith and trust 
Shall survive the " dust to dust." 

Love to God and faith in Him, 
They shall nevermore grow dim ; 
Love to men, in Christ's dear name 
Sweeter is than earthly fame. 

Let us lay up heavenly store 
Where 'twill perish nevermore ! 
Then when ties of earth are riven, 
We shall treasures find in Heaven. 



UNDER THE STARS. 63 

The Future. 



The Future patiently 

Waits for the coming years, 
And clasps them in his arms, 

With all their hopes and fears ; 
With all their joy and bliss, 

Their sorrow and their pain. 
As they become the past, 

He sighs, and waits again. 



Under the Stars. 



Poets sing of flowers that blossom 

Out in the meadows, one by one. 
Blooming in manifold hues of the rainl)ow 

Under the warming rays of the sun. 
I will tune my harp to the magic 

Of night, when slumber carking cares. 
And when the flowery kingdom sparkles 

And shows its glories under the stars. 

Under the stars of the summer heavens, 
Glowing like living coals in the sky, 



64 UNDER THE STARS. 

Arm in arm fond lovers wander, 

Hearts attuned to harmony. 
Sweeter the look from the eyes of maiden, 

Fonder the light in her lover's eyes, 
Than if together they walked at mid-day 

Under the burning summer skies. 

Out in the cloudless winter evening, 

When earth's bosom is white with snow, 
The veil seems rent 'twixt earth and heaven, 

And the world above and ours below 
Meet within range of earthly vision. 

And the soul, its vision made more clear. 
Thinks it sees the light reflected 

From angels' wings in the higher sphere. 

Under the stars the flowers sparkle, 

Under the stars fond lovers walk. 
Through the stars the shining angels 

Soem of wondrous things to talk. 
Under the stars the veil seems riven, 

And weary pilgrims as they plod 
Long for the time when burdens are lifted, 

And hci/ond the stars they meet their God. 



CITY AND COUNTRY. 65 

City and Country. 



Willie raked the fragrant hay 

In his father's sloping meadow, 

And, when weary, sought to rest 

'Neath the maple's cooling shadow, 

And reclining there he thought, 

" O, how hard and poor my lot ! " 

Lost to him the glorious scene 

That, Avith light and beauty glowinj 

Spread before his sleepy eyes — 
Lost to him the breezes blowing. 

He saw not the river's crest, 

Nor, near by, the blue l)ird's nest. 

Longings had he all the while 

For the great and bustling city. 

Scorning work and country life ; 
Ah ! it is a crying pity 

That so many children dream 

That all things are what they seem. 

Willie now is grown a man, 

And his home the noisy Babel; 

As he backward turns his gaze. 

Dreams of youth seem but a fable. 



66 THE FIRE ON THE HEARTH. 

And he wonders why he sought 
When a boy to change his lot. 

Fortune on him for a time 

Looked with bright and smiling features, 
And complacently he thought: 

" Happy are we city creatures, 
In this whirl of constant joy 
That doth our glad lives employ." 

But at length the dark days came. 

Bringing ruinous disaster ; 
Bankrupt health and bankrupt wealth 

Each became his cruel master; 
All in vain attempts to rise 
From the slough of miseries. 

Feeble now his step and slow, 

On him falls life's evening shadow. 

And his hope is when he dies, 
To be buried in the meadow. 

Where he raked the fragrant hay 

In the morning of life's day. 



The Fire on the Hearth.' 



The fire on the hearth was kindled 
Long and long ago. 



THE FIRE ON THE HEARTH. 67 

On winter eves it sparkled, 

O, how bright its glow ! 
It warmed the ones who gathered 

Around the fireside old, 
And welcomed home the children 

At night within the fold. 

When, through the mountain gorges, 

The night winds wildly sped ; 
When snow the broad land covered. 

And nature's form looked dead, — 
They piled the oak wood higher. 

And added elm and pine. 
Until like stars of baauty. 

Did the live coals sparkle and shine. 

And when the crocus blossoms 

Peered through the damp spring mould ; 
And when May, flower laden. 

Came and banished the cold; 
When, from the very zenith. 

The sun poured vertical rays — 
The fire upon the heartstone 

Burned on through the nights and days. 

O, when the Lord of glory 

Builds fires of love and grace 



68 FORTY ACRES FOR SARAH. 

Upon our poor hearts' altars, — 
Quench not nor yet efface ! 

But let the coals burn brightly, 

Till earth's toils, griefs and sighs 

Are changed for the joys of Heaven — 
For the bliss of Paradise. 



Forty Acres for Sarah. 



[The great; Buck will case of Sarah B. Rickabus, proponent, vs. 
John F. Gott, contestant.] 

Her witnesses, upon some points. 
Were vague, perhaps contrary. 

But every time they swore true-blue 
There were forty acres for Sarah. 

Michie, EUair, and Martin, too, 

Who witnessed the will, might vary 

About some things, but Avere always sure 
Buck left a '' Forty " to Sarah. 

All the rest, both goods and lands, 

To Elizabeth (not Mary), 
Was left by William Buck's last will, 

But the " Forty " was saved for Sarah. 



FORTY ACRES FOR SARAH. 69 

Atkinson, Frazer, Prentis, Ward, 

And Howell might be merry, 
Or serious, in their arguments. 

The points were scored for Sarah. 

Dr. Smith might figure away 

As to when some one did marry, 

He could not switch the jury off 
From doing justice to Sarah. 

The sheriff and the clerk might chat 

While some jurors did tarry. 
But were alert and wide awake, 

When the battle waged for Sarah. 

Kinsella, with his spanking steed. 

Did the subpoenas carry, 
That brought the witnesses to swear 

That the " Forty " belonged to Sarah. 

And after all was said and done, 

Judge Chambers, a good judge — very — 

Laid down the law between John Gott 
And the proponent Sarah. 

The jury then filed out o' the room, 
And, in manner cautious and wary, 
5 



70 IN THE COUNTRY. 

Upheld the will of William Buck, 

And confirmed the " Forty " to Sarah. 

After Gott's appeal to Supreme Court, 
The parties the hatchet did bury ; 

The result is quite a handsome sum, 
Plus forty acres for Sarah. 



In the Country. 



Hear the sound of pattering feet, 
Hurrying out into the street ; 
Hear the cheery, glad, good-bye. 
Without tear, or sob, or sigh, 
And our little girls are gone, 
Left the smoky, dusty town. 

Gone with grandma to her home. 
Where there's room to run and roam, 
And where shouts made on the hill. 
Never bring the words "keep still." 
Berries may be picked at will 
At high noon, or evening chill. 

In the green fields all is free. 
There's the largest liberty ; 



IN THE COUNTRY. 

Glad streams gurgle, laugh and flow, 
Into valleys far below. — 
Pallid brow and cheek are fanned, 
By the breeze from God's own hand. 

Beauty glows in yonder sky ! 
Sun as monarch sitteth high — 
Sends his legion— sunbeams bright, 
Drives to ocean depths the night, 
Gives the trees their garb of green, 
Floods the world with wondrous sheen. 

Blooming wild flowers, here and there, 
Cast their fragrance on the air ; 
Waving grain and rustling corn 
Greet the eye at eve and morn, 
And the balm of new-made hay 
Floats upon the breeze away. 

Happy while the days are fair, 
While remains the balmy air, 
Are the girls from home away, 
With their ceaseless round of play. 
Joyous grandma laughs to see 
Happy girls from sorrow free. 



72 LIFE. 

The Christmas Holidays. 



Swingeth Time's pendulum to and fro ; 
The days they darken and shorter grow, 
The sun soon hides from our longing gaze. 
Yet, after all, we have holidays. 

For there is a light in the heart that beams 
Like golden sheen on laughing streams. . 
Whether 'tis day or whether night 
Never fadeth this inward light. 

The sun that sheds this light of gold 
Never grows dim and never grows old, 
And when the night of death is come. 
It guides the Pilgrim unto his home. 

Cherish the sun that never goes down ! 
Welcome the light that leads to the crown ! 
Follow the light that doth heal and bless, 
Worship the Sun of Righteousness ! 



Life. 

There is no end to toil, 
A world of sorrow this ; 



LIFE. 73 

We hope, we battle, strive 
For happiness and bliss — 
And miss. 

Ambition's fire-fly flame 

Leads on through damp morass ; 
When we the goal art nigh. 

Fate saith, '' Thou can'st not pass." 
Alas! 

We climb the mountain high, 

To view some landscape fair, 
And seeking triumph gain, 

Far in the upper air. 
Despair. 

And yet from lowest vale, 

If but by faith we see. 
Is viewed the Beulah land 

Of immortality. 

Through Thee. 

Thus overcoming all, 

Life's toils, and pains, and fears, 
At last is reached the goal 

Beyond this vale of years 
And tears. 



74 TNE BLIZZARD. 

Here and There. 



Here are clouds and darkness, 
There are light and peace ; 

Here are toil and struggle, 
There we find release. 

Here faith shows us dimly 
The blessedness to come ; 

There is hope\s fruition 

Found in heaven our home. 

Here are warm, true friendships, 
Heart responds to heart ; 

There love rules eternal, 

We meet there ne'er to part. 

May we here so love Thee, 
God of truth and grace. 

That we there may know Thee — 
See Thee face to face. 



The Blizzard. 



I come from the mystic realms afar. 

The cave of the winds, 'neath an Arctic star, 



THE BLIZZARD. 75 

Where never is felt the summer heat, 
Where never blooms the rose so sweet. 

Of vengeance fierce I am a part, 
In my breast is found a frozen heart ; 
I start on my journey of merciless woe, 
Clothed with wind and ice and snow. 

My voice is terrible in its wrath, 
As I speed in anger along my path. 
Swifter than eagle's wing my flight — 
I turn bright noon into black midnight. 

Whene'er you hear my trumpet blast. 
You may know I soon will be sweeping past ; 
Then hie ye away unto your home, 
For with me perils and dangers come ! 

I take the snow as soft as down 
And cast upon it an icy frown, 
And velvet flakes turn to icy beaks. 
That strike the face like dagger peaks. 

I pile the snow-banks mountain high, 
With icy missiles I fill the sky. 
And before my sickles travelers fall. 
The sky above them a funeral pall. 



76 LINCOLN THE MARTYR. 

Strong habitations tremble and rock, 
Before the onset of my shock, 
And children wail and mothers weep 
As over the home I in fierceness sweep. 

There is no pity, or mercy, or love 
In the icy chariot in which I move ; 
Nothing but vengeance, wrath and hate, 
And in my track all is desolate. 



Lincoln, the Martyr. 



Up out of the damp, dark earth — 
Mould as black as the night — 

There peered a blade that grew and grew 
Up into the air and light ; 

As they passed by men looked and said : 
^^ Behold the lily so ivhiteP^ 

Up out of the dark morass 
Of Egyptian humanity, 
Arose a soul as the lily white. 

Who lived to make men free ; 
As they pass his tomb the Ages say : 
" The Martyr of Liberty P' 



THE GREAT WORD. 77 

The Great Word. 



When John Wesley was in Georgia he was introduced to a 
Cherolcee chief, to whom he dispensed the Word of Life. The chiel 
thanlied Wesley, and said, " I have heard of the Great Spirit, but 
never before of the Great Word." 

I have heard of a Spirit Great 

That rules the earth and sky, 
That me shall bear to my hunting-ground 

When my hour shall come to die. 

I see Him in the clouds, 

On the winds His voice I hear. 

And when in the midnight blast He speaks, 
My soul doth quake with fear. 

And yet, in the zephyrs soft, 

That fan my swarthy cheek. 
When summer evening shadows fall. 

He soothingly doth sj^eak. 

But I have never heard 

Till now of His good, great word. 
In the message in His book of love, 

0, how my soul is stirred ! 



tell me, pale-face, more 

Of the Word so deep and broad. 



78 MERRY CHRISTMAS. 

So high, so pure, and so complete,- 
This mighty Word of God! 



Merry Christmas. 



Be ye merry, 

Be ye cheery, 
On this Christmas day; 

Do not borrow 

Care or sorrow, 
Drive them far away. 

Let no trouble 
Like a bubble 

To the surface rise; 

Love well founded. 
Faith well grounded ; 

Look, then, toward the skies. 

Joy is springing, 
Hope is singing 

In our home to-day ; 

Christmas merry. 
Bright and cheery, 

Hail thee, happy day ! 



winter's coming. 79 

Winter's Coming. 



A cold blast from the North 

All the air is filling, 
It strikes our mother Earth, 

Her broad bosom chilling ; 
It whistles and it shrieks 

With its fifing and its drumming, 
And shouts with prophet's ken ; 
"Winter's Coming!" 

The farmer gathers in 

The latest harvest's showing, 

Potatoes, apples, roots. 
In the cellar stowing. 

The corn is in the crib. 

And a maid is humming 

An air with this refrain, 

"Winter's Coming!" 

The birds of passage fly 

From our northern border. 
Like a bannered army 

Marching forth in order ; 
And with maiden and with blast 
In their humming and their drumming. 



80 JOHN CHINAMAN ON THE WING. 

They cry from upper deeps, 
"Winter's Coming!" 



John Chinaman On The Wing. 



[" Chinese laborers may pass through this country, but they 
can't stay here."— Secretaa'y Frelinghuysen, January, 1883.] 

" John Chinaman, my Joe, John, 

Why do you go so fast? 
You seem to be a flying cloud. 

Sweeping, sailing past ; 
Your eyes are looking wild, John, 

Your look is that of fear, 
And down your cheek of sorrow, John, 

There flows the silent tear." 

" I'm carrying out your laws, Sam, 

In speeding o'er your land ; 
I'd gladly stop and toil, Sam, 

And grasp you by the hand. 
But Mr. Frelinghuysen says 

That 'when you reach our shore 
You must pass through our realm with speed, 

Much as we this deplore.' 



JOHN CHINAMAN ON THE WING. 81 

" I used to, in the sunrise land, 

Hear of a western star. 
That shed its welcome, lustrous light, 

O'er the oppressed from far. 
I used to hear of Liberty 

As having a new birth ; 
That your's was the freest 

And brightest land on earth. 

I heard that here the sons of toil 

Were royal as a king ; 
That there was here no hated caste. 

Or any oppressive thing ; 
That each one in the race of life 

Had the same chance to win 
As every other in the race — 

That naught weighed down but sin. 

I heard that in the ' seventy-six,' 

You, as a feeble band. 
With God and right upon your side, 

Broke down the oppressor's hand. 
And in your Declaration said 

That all men were born free. 
With chartered rights to happiness, 

To life and liberty. 



82 JOHN CHINAMAN ON THE WING. 

" I used to hear that starving men 

From Ireland here found bread, 
That German military rule 

Here gave her sons no dread ; 
That sons of Albion and of Spain, 

Of France and Italy, 
Of Scandinavia, Africa, 

And of islands of the sea, 

" And the oppressed from all the world 

Found here a resting place, 
And found a government of power 

One of abounding grace ; 
And so we of the morning land, 

— (Whose history goes so far 
Into the past, its early dawn 

Rests 'neath a morning star). 

" Thought we were the invited ones, 

And sailed across the sea; 
You welcomed us, and, lo ! we toiled 

At works of drudgery. 
We helped to send your flying trains 

Through mountains and o'er plain, 
Till the Pacific on the west 

Was linked to Atlantic's main. 



JOHN CHINAMAN ON THE WING. 83 

But, like an orange you have sucked, 

You cast us now aside. 
And trample under foot a race 

As if its soul had died. 
But, 0, the day is coming, Sam, 

When dragon's teeth now sown, 
Will yield a harvest, dark and drear. 

Of Liberty o'erthrown. 



I speed across this boasted land 

Like the wind, and you care not 
For either wind or Chinaman 

So we soon leave this spot 
Where this great tree of Liberty 

Was planted long ago — 
But its leaves are taking on the hue 

Of a dark and deadly woe." 



84 MARCH UP THE HILL OF TRIUMPH. 

March up the Hill of Triumph/ 



Why sit in the dark, damp lowlands, 

Peering through blinding mist ? 
Why grope your way through shadows 

Which the sunbeams ne'er have kissed? 
Why do I hear you sighing 

As if all hope had fled, 
And life's best aspirations 

Within your hearts were dead? 

I think I know my brothers, 

Why you in the valley stay ; 
You are weak, yet willing captives 

And under the awful sway 
Of a subtle, but mighty demon 

Who leads you at his will. 
And makes you in love with darkness, 

This serpent of the still. 

Why dwell in the vale of peril 

Under the serpent's spell? 
Why, listless, float on the current 

That leads to a drunkard's hell? 
Why so cheaply your life-blood barter? 

Why stain with guilt your soul? 



THE JUDGE SUPREME. 85 

Why press your way towards ruin, 
When there is a glorious goal? 

Come up, then, men from the lowlands, 

Assert your God-like 2)owers ! 
March up the hill of triumph, 

Dwell mid perennial flowers ! 
The trumpet of God is calling. 

Your Captain, Christ, leads on — 
Ah ! soon may this mist and darkness 

Give place to a golden dawn ! 



The Judge Supreme; 



September's haz\^ sun shone down 

On prairie, grove and village street ; 
The people flocked to the County Town 

Where the District Court was about to meet. 
The Judge sat on the bench, the hour 

Arrived for opening — then '' hear ! hear ! " 
The Sheriff cried in tones of power, 

^^AII persons ivith business here draw nearP^ 

Men's hats were doffed — a silence fell 

On all who sat in the crowded room ; 
6 



86 THE JUDGE SUPREME. 

Here and there was a face which a tale did tell, 
Of fear lest some impending doom 

Should fall, when juries should do their work 
And find some verdict for the State, 

Which, spite of technical quibble and quirk, 
Would lead to a Stillwater fate. 

The grand jury sat with eyes upturned 

To the judge — before him the statutes lay, — 
Frank and manly, courteous, learned, 

Firm, yet merciful was his sway. 
He expounded the law that governed their deeds, 

They listening to every word he said — 
Why does he stop? Alas ! there speeds 

A message that says, " Your child is dead! " 

Another hush on the court room fell 

Broken by sobs from every side, 
No pen can write, no words can tell. 

The father's anguish o'er the child that died. 
'Twas a fair young girl, his only child. 

That morning filled with bounding life, 
And now at noon this spirit mild 

Has gone beyond earth's care and strife. 

The Court adjourned, and on flying train 
The Judge returned to his desolate home. 



PRESS ON. 

No earthly honors can ease his pain, 
Or still his wounded spirit's moan. 

Thus when are moving the wheels of life, 
When hearts are jubilant, hopes elate. 

Or when Courts meet for legal strife. 
The Judge Supreme decrees our fate. 



Press On ! 



0, man ! though storms beat 'round thy path, 

And hide the sunlight from thy face, 
(As if He frowned in holy wrath,) 

Thy footsteps never backward trace ; 
But onward go through heat and cold. 

Through light and shade forever press ! 
Like the brave soldier, hardy, bold. 

And work and fight for righteousness ! 
And then a laurel wreath 

Will meet thee at the goal. 
And hope all radiant 

Will greet thy waiting soul. 

But stop not at the earthly goal. 

However high is carved thv name, 



88 



PRESS ON. 



For not on earth alone the soul 

Can reach the loftiest point of fame. 
By faith look out, beyond, above 

The rocky path, the battle-strife ! 
And onward press till land of love 

Is gained — blest land of light and life ! 
Then wreath unfading thine. 

Then crown of purest gold, 
And joys unsj^eakable. 

While the swift ajres roll. 




BSTIS. 



Notel. Next Door. 

The late Hiram J. Beakes, who died at Anu Arbor, 
Mich., May 20, 1882, for several years prior to his death was 
a member of the law firm of Beakes & Ciitcheon, (Judge 
Hiram J. Beakes and Hon. Sullivan M. Cutcheon,) whose 
offices comprised three rooms in the Seitz Block, Detroit. 
On the glass joanel of the door of the room occupied by 
Judge Beakes was this inscription : 

§5 H. J. BEAKES. ii 

I 88 

§2 Entrance next door. ^^' •§ 

*•- - -, • ', - -, - - - ^1 

eoBoec«ooo»o»o«o«'0«o«o»c«o«o«Oi»c. •o»o«o»o«S»o 

About a year after Judge B's death this inscription 
remained. At this time the writer — whose office faced on 
the opposite side of the corridor — saw workmen taking 
away the door referred to, in connection with the work of 
razing the building, and the question arose in his mind, 
''Where now is 'next door,' with Judge Beakes? " And 



90 NOTES. 

the queries were at once written in the form they appear 
in the initial poem of this book. 



Note 2. " In The Attic." 

The attic referred to is a light and commodious one, 
full of books, pictures and other things elevating to the 
mind. It is in that most delightful part of our beautiful 
Detroit called the Cass farm, which has broad avenues and 
deep lots, affording the advantages of a quiet retreat, and 
yet within reach of the *'low, faint roar" from Campus 
Martins. Longfellow says: ''The thoughts of youth are 
long, long thoughts." In our day dreams the thoughts of 
us all are long, long thoughts. That bright and promising 
young lawyer, the late John J). Canfield, of Detroit, is 
brought to mind as I write this notice, for this poem 
was one he found rested his weary frame, as he in his 
long illness : 

'* Breasted the throbbing waves of life, 
However hard they beat." 



Note 3. Just in Time. 

The rescue of Lieut. Greeley and party, from the 
deadly perils staring them in the face in their icy prison 
house, during the summer of 1884, will live in song and 
storj^ while the world stands. The theme is worthy a 
Homer or Milton. The author could not resist the impulse 
that came upon him, while reading the first account of the 
rescue, to write, though with feeble pen, the thoughts sug- 
gested by the remarkable event. 



NOTES. 91 

Note 4. The Darkness Within. 

The ancient mariners upon the Mediterranean knew 
there must be a great sea to the westward, but their igno- 
rant, superstitious minds pictured it as a sea of darkness, 
full of deadly perils. So they hugged the shore of the 
Mediterranean and furled sail at the Gates of Hercules. 



Note 5. Detroit River. 

From the 10th day of May, 1850, when the writer 
landed at the Woodward Avenue wharf, from the steamer 
Atlantic, from Buffalo, till the present time, the writer 
has been enthusiastic in his admiration for the noble river 
that flows by this beautiful city. In October, 1883, his 
enthusiasm took form in verse, the immediate inspiration 
thereof being an address of welcome delivered on October 
2, 1883, by Rev. Dr. Z. Eddy, then pastor of the Fort street 
Congregational Church, to the American Board of Com- 
missioners for Foreign Missions, then convened at the Cen- 
tral M. E. Church, especially the following extract there- 
from : 

"It never runs low, it never overflows its banks. It 
is clear, full, inexhaustible, like the river of life." 



Note 6. Old Gray Rock. 

Suggested by a sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. W. W. 
Ramsay, July, 1883, in Central M. E. Church, Detroit, 
from the text (Ps. 119, 160): ^^ Thy xl' or d is true from the 
beginning,''^ 



92 NOTES. 

Note 7. Fremont. 

Written in 1802, upon the appointment of Gen, John 
C. Fremont to the command of tlie Mountain Department 
of. Virginia. 



Note 8. North Star State. 

Although Minnesota is the home of the bhzzard, she 
keeps step in tlie march of progress with states that have 
more balmy air and skies. If tlie reader consults a map 
of this great state, he will see that the lakes and rivers are 
numerous. The Red River runs northerly, the Minnesota 
southerly, the Otter Tail westerly, and the Mississippi 
easterly and southerly ; and other rivers are equally 
diverse in their courses. The writer resided in Minnesota 
from 1868 to May 1873, and witnessed many signs of pro- 
gress. During 18G9 over 2,000 miles of railroads were built. 



Note 9. In Memoriam. 

Abraham Lincoln. — The world is familiar with the life 
and tragic death of this great apostle of liberty. It was the 
writer's high privilege to hear his two last public addresses 

Lyman Cochrane. — The first judge of the Superior 
Court of Detroit,' died February 5th, 1879, aged 54 years, 
after an illness of a day or two ; warm-hearted, scholarly, 
equable and just; he was mourned by all classes of citizens. 

David Preston. — Died suddenly Sunday morning, 
April 24, 1887, at his home in Detroit, aged 60 years. He 
was a banker who attended to his calling, yet his life was 



NOTES. 93 

crowded with works of love and charity, with words of ap- 
peal and love to the unsaved, with greetinj^s to his friends, 
whose name was legion. He was a trustee of the Central 
M. E. church, Detroit, j'-et his great heart took in tlie world 
in its sympathies. Any adequate account of his life of faith 
and good deeds would till a volume. 

George A. Ross.— A large lumber dealer at Detroit, 
died July 28, 1885. He was a brave officer in the Union 
Army during the war, and a trustee of the Central M. E. 
church at the time of his death. He was a successful busi- 
ness man, a tru-e friend and a very active and devoted 
Christian. 

Joiix MoTTE Arnold, D. D. — Died suddenly at Detroit, 
December 5, 1884, aged 61 years, tie wus lai eminent 
divine and writer. For several years prior to his death he 
was the editor of the Michigan Christian Advocate. 

John Willyoung. — A Detroit merchant, and trustee of 
the Central M. E. church, died at the midniglit of Saturday, 
December 1, 1882, just as the Sabbath was ushered in. He 
was warm-hearted, intelligent, manly, industrious, and a 
true Christian. 

Rev. James B. Atchinson. — A clergyman of the De- 
troit Conference of the M. E. church, died at Midland City, 
Mich., July 15, 1882, aged 42 years. He was gifted with 
many good qualities of the head and heart. He was a 
successful composer of music, and a fine vocalist as well. 

Sadie Campbell. — She was the beautiful and promis- 
ing little daughter of Mr. and jNIns. Edv.ard A. Campbell, 
and died at Litchfield, Minn., in the autumn of 187:). I 



94 NOTES. 

have not the exact date at hand. The verses were written 
in the spring of 1874, about one year after the v/riter saw 
the child in her home. 

Maurice Howell Hall. — He was the son of Wm. T. 
and Eva H. Hall, of Waterford, Michigan, and died Bun- 
day, August 8, 1881, aged 7 months and 11 days. His twin 
bi'other Willie is now quite a boy. 



Note lO. Pillow of Promises. 

One night after the writer had for hours tossed rest- 
lessly upon his pillowy finding no sleep, there began to 
come to his mind, like flashes of light, promises from God's 
word. They came in legions. Some of them had not been 
in his thoughts for years. They soon diverted his thoughts 
from all things sublunary, and ere he was aware, he was 
asleep on the pillow of promises. 



Note 11. Sunrise on the Prairies. 

The Prairies referred to are neiir the ''Big Woods," 
and in Meeker County, Minnesota, where the surface is 
undulating. Numerous beautiful lakes and groves help 
to make the scene like one in fairy land. The dead level 
prairie, unrelieved by lake or tree or shrub, may inspire 
awe as it stretches away beyond the horizon's rim. Yet 
its monotony soon brings a sense of loneliness to the be- 
holder. Such prairies as are imperfectly described in the 
poem would set a dull heart on fire with enthusiasm, and 
inspire the soul with awe and reverence in thus drinking 
in the glories that He sheds upon his handiwork. 



NOTES. 95 

Note 12. The Big Prairies. 

These are known in Minnesota of the region west of 
the " Big Woods," which latter are embraced in a belt of 
timber stretching from the Mississippi river to a point 
about sixty miles west of that river. The " Big Prairies " 
stretch away to the Eocky Momitains, with only here and 
there any timber. 



Note 13. Love's Immortality. 

In the drama of Ion, as the death-devoted Greek is 
about to meet his fate, his beloved Clemantha asks : 
''Shall we meet again?" He replies: ''I have asked 
that dreadful question of the hills that look eternal, of 
the clear streams that flow on forever, of the stars amid 
whose fields of azure my spirit has walked in glory, and 
they were dumb ; but as I look upon thy living face I feel 
that there is something in the love that mantles through 
its beauty that cannot wholly perish. We shall meet 
again, Clemantha." 



Note 14. Immortality. 

This poem was suggested by a sermon delivered by 
the Rev. Dr. J. H. Bayliss, in the Central M. E. Church, 
of Detroit, in July, 1881, he being then pastor. The gen- 
eral thought of the sermon was that nature, at most, only 
hints at immortality, whiil the gospel brings it forth to 
light. 



96 NOTES. 

No. 15. The Fire on the Hearth. 

In the summer of 1884 an item was floating through 
the press to the effect that an old gentleman had died in 
North Carolina who had never allowed the fire to go out on 
the hearthstone, night or day, winter or summer. In 
this he followed the example of his father before him. 



Note 16. March up the Hill of Triumph. 

This was written after hearing Francis Murphy, the 
great temperance orator, deliver a most eloquent gospel 
temperance address at Beecher Hall, Detroit, D. Bethume 
Dufiield presiding. In one portion of his speech he ad- 
dressed liimself to the slaves of the appetite for strong 
drink — beckoning meanwhile with his right hand — in some- 
thing like the following style: "Come out, men, from 
slavery into liberty, from darkness into liglit. Turn your 
backs upon the demon drink, make Excelsior your motto, 
kingly men, and march up to the summit of the hill of 
triumph ! " Some men were so moved by the appeal that 
they rose partly up from their seats. 



No. 17. The Judge Suprej-ne. 

At the term of the I>istrict Court for the county of 
Meeker, Minnesota, which convened at Litchfield on the 
second Tuesday of September, 1871, soon after the conven- 
ing of the Court, and while the Hon. Chas. E. Vander- 
burgh, the presiding Judge, was instructing the Grand 
Jury, he received a telegram from his home in Minneapolis, 



NOTES. 97 

announcing that his only daughter, a promising girl of 
twelve, years, had fallen into a cistern and drowned. Judge 
Vanderburgh is now one of the Judges of tlie Supreme 
Court of Minnesota. He is an able and upriglit jurist, and 
a popular and highly esteemed citizen. Hon. Wm. M. 
Campbell, now II. S. Marshal for Minnesota, was then 
Sheriff of Meeker County. He was a model. Sheriff and 
he is now a model Marshal. S. W. Leavitt was the efficient 
Clerk of the District Court in 1871. Among the lawyers 
present were Judge A. C. Smith, Francis Belfoy^ and Henry 
Hill (all three now dead), Edward A. Campbell, Charles 
H. Strobeck, and Chas. B. Howell. Mr. Stro])eck now 
holds the office of Judge of Probate, then held by Mr. 
Howell. Mr. Campbell is practicing law in Minneapolis. 



Forty Acres for Sarah. 

Mrs. Rickal)us, the adopted daughter of William Buck, 
deceased, sought to probate Mr. Buck's alleged lost will, 
which devised property valued at $30,000, situated in Crosse 
Pointe, near Detroit. Mr. John F. Gott, Buck's nephew, 
contested the will. Mrs. Rickabus won three times before 
juries in the Wayne Circuit Court, and once in the Supreme 
Court. Mr. Gott won in the Probate Court before Judge 
Durfee, and once before a jury. One jury disagreed, and 
the last time the case was in the Supreme Court it was ar- 
gued but not decided, the same being settled, before the 
Court passed upon it. The case was begun in April, 1880, 
and was settled in 1887. The attorneys named in the verses 
are Wm. F. Atkinson,* Eobert E. Frazer, and C. B. Howell, 



98 NOTES. 

for Mrs. Rickabiis ; and George H. Prentis, B. T. Prentis, 
and John Ward, for Mr. Gott. Mr. Frazer and Mr. Ward 
were not in the case till the last trial. The law in regard 
to lost wills was most thoroughly presented on both sides. 
There is no knowing when the case would have finally 
ended or which side would have finally won, had the parties 
not settled. 



Sleep and Rest. 

The reference to the soldier's rest under the starry 
arch was suggested by a description of the march of the 
22d Michigan Infantry from Lexington to Crab Orchard, 
Kentuck}", during the war, and of their sleeping in blankets 
upon the ground. W. H. Merrithew, who wrote the de- 
scription for the Pontiac Gazette, added: "The sweetest 
rest of all is on the bosom of mother earth, watched by 
sentinel stars overhead, which wait not, halt not, but shine 
on forever." My interest was deepened in Mr. Merrithew's 
article by the fact that a younger brother of mine was a 
member of that regiment, and gave up his life for his 
country on the soil of Kentucky. 



